Crimson Covered Souls
by BlueBastard
Summary: "I'm not a *good* person" The Lone Wanderer snapped, pinned and angry. Charon drew close enough for his breath to curl intimately against her neck, head lowered to compensate for his frightening build, snarling "Neither am I." FLW/Charon F/M
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own nor profit from Fallout 3 or its characters.

-o-o-o-

She stormed into the Ninth Circle, steely look to her gray eyes, black hair starting to loosen in her hastily done bun. The fact that she was a smoothskin made Charon's ever-present frown deepen, his fingers itching for the trigger. Something about her made him take a second glance. That wasn't just normal leathers thrown over her lithe form, gripping her slender curves protectively. It was reinforced. Hell to pierce with a blunt weapon. Hell to keep repaired and functioning, as well.

The sleek silver and green glow of the plasma rifle strapped to her back spoke enough for her. She was no pushover. Her confident gait spoke volumes as well.

She wouldn't hesitate to stick it in whoever stood in her way.

He watched, blue eyes sparking with begrudging amusement -absent for the last couple decades- as the little whirlwind headed straight to the bar. Straight to his employer.

The Lone Wanderer slammed herself into the nearest seat, eyeing the snappily dressed bartender. Dismissing him as a threat, unless it involved her caps, she relaxed a fraction. She had already discreetly scanned the room on her way in. The only one who looked like he would put up a fight was the six-foot seven-inch behemoth decked in leather, leaning against the corner. She was respectfully wary of the heavy duty shotgun he slung carelessly over his shoulder. Its ragged exterior would have fooled everyone else, but she could tell the barrel had been tinkered with, the gun itself looking worn solely due to use. Though overindulgence was a more apt term. The way he was eyeing her made her frown. She didn't like being watched. And she sure as hell would let him know.

Without even glancing in his direction, she gave a one fingered salute. She could almost swear she heard an amused snort from that darkened corner.

She turned her attention from him, to the other ghoul in front of her as he began what sounded like a much rehearsed, dry, welcoming speech.

She wasn't in the mood.

Dead Super Mutants and metro raiders killed that as dead as she had killed them minutes earlier. What a sight the Museum of History had been. Not to mention the 'friendly' greeting from the town's guard dog, Willow. They had stared each other down the ends of their scopes, neither flinching nor breathing. Eventually, the girl ghoul had lowered her gun, letting the little Asian smoothskin through with clipped warning. She had no friends in Underworld. One wrong breath and she was a goner.

Ari had simply smirked wearily and continued on her way, the useless junk she scavenged weighing heavier with each step closer to a possible trading post.

"Just give me a drink." She cut the surprised bartender off, caps already in hand.

Whatever insult may have come across his dry lips vanished the moment he sensed the amount of coin this stranger had brought in with her. His faltering grin went into a full fledged smile as he hastened to comply, "Of course."

He didn't know what would bring a lone smoothskin, and such a pretty young thing at that, to this place. But Azhrukhal wasn't complaining. Caps were caps. Others in the bar, however didn't mind letting their disagreements become verbal.

Unfortunately, the Lone Wanderer heard the mutterings of one patron nearby. Something along the lines of 'damn smoothskins' and thinking they 'owned the place'.

She was normally very calm. Controlled. Honestly she was.

But today had been a bad fucking day. Raiders had caught her with her pants down, literally. Taking a piss.

Really, who the fuck slept underneath the burning husk of an automobile? She didn't have enough time to be embarrassed. Even after she had shot him, then his buddies, until they were more goo than flesh, the embarrassment didn't come. She did, however, have time to limp disgustedly over to an irradiated pool at the nearest exit, ridding herself of her own smell.

Where she was then nearly drowned by a Mirelurk.

Getting insulted by a guy who was covered in less skin than she had covering her own ass didn't seem near as bad... by itself.

But combined...

That was the last straw.

She felt the familiar cool metal of A3-31's plasma rifle under her tense fingers as she was at the other table in a blink of an eye, her bar stool toppling at the counter seconds later, like the thunder to her lightening movements.

"What was that?" She demanded, growling.

She felt a spike of pleasure as she read the sudden fear in his eyes. Fear was a very valuable commodity out here in the wastes. It gave you the edge of life-saving seconds when facing countless odds and enemies. If you gave in, it could also end you.

A valuable lesson for a vault kid.

And a hard one to learn.

Before he could stammer out useless apologies, the girl heard the cock of a shotgun and the press of a cold barrel on her temple.

Fuck, how had he gotten there so fast?

Even as she cursed inwardly, knowing she had written her own death warrant by forgetting him, she outwardly exuded a measured, deadly calm.

Appearances were everything, as well.

"Wouldn't do that." The voice rumbled with the rough curse of the irradiated, though the deep bass echoed with a danger that was the man's own.

Ari let out a slow, defeated exhale, making a show of lowering her arms. The bouncer barely bought it, but that small fraction was enough. Dropping her plasma weapon, she quickly swiveled, ducking as the shotgun blasted millimeters from her ear. Her head was ringing even as she surged upwards and grabbed the base of the gun and twisted. With little force, she made the brute decide between losing his weapon, or losing healthy limb functions. He chose the former, though she was sure it was more out of surprise than anything.

Rage twisted his features at the loss of his gun. His expression said it all.

Bad move, smoothskin.

Realizing she should've gone for a stunning blow rather than the ranged weapon in such close quarters, Ari fired the weapon close to his face to buy time. He twisted his torso, turning away as the blast tore the air inches from his cheek, pellets shattering useless glass bottles on the far shelf.

Damn he was fast for such a big guy.

Ducking under his retaliating backhand, something the Lone Wanderer knew would have made her see stars, Ari jammed her hand into her powerfist. She barely felt the hiss and click of it locking in before she rushed a body shot to his torso.

He doubled over.

For anyone else, the hit would have been at least a crippling blow, at worst a disemboweling one.

But this one was different.

Even through the powerfist, Ari's knuckles throbbed. What was the ghoul's abs made of? Brick? Fucking steel?

He was winded. She knew that much. But as he rose with a growl and a flame to his eyes, she knew she was in some deep shit. Should've gone with the deathclaw gauntlet. That would've made some serious damage. But for some insane reason, she had held back. Too late for regrets now.

"Fuck." She cursed, hearing the sound of her back slamming against the table before she felt the explosion of pain or the strong hand gripping the front of her leather armor.

Her head throbbed as she took a moment to gather her wits. She gave a muted cry, though, as she felt her gauntlet torn from her hand and tossed halfway across the room.

The fist at her front collar shook her, hard, to get her attention.

Mission accomplished, asshole, her steel eyes glared. Her voice merely snarled, "What?"

"Hit me with that again..." His voice growled, dripping with blood-drenched promises, "and you won't live to regret it."

"Don't give me a reason to, and I won't." She hissed, her eyes telling him to shove it.

A measure of surprise flit through his eyes before the growl rumbled from his chest, fist tightening as he leaned closer. He had worked in the Ninth Circle for some time now. Under Azhrukhal's employ, he had thrown out many drunks and badass wannabes. She was different. She had more than a spine. She had some serious balls. Charon wasn't the type to think about his own appearance. But he knew others didn't give him such a large berth because of his pretty face. His bite was worse than his bark, which was insanely effective on its own.

He was a fucking monster. Even among his own kind he was larger than average. That made her, this little toothpick of a human that dared stand toe to toe with him... well...

...interesting.

Unfortunately, this wasn't just any bar she had started shit in. This was the Ninth Circle. And Charon was contracted to get rid of troublemakers. His slight frown at that realization surprised him.

Did he... actually NOT want to end this smoothskin?

Ari squirmed, realizing her dire predicament. Her opponent was not only taller and male, but he had the ghoul strength wired in his muscled body.

'Genetic and physical strength, fuck me.'

She felt the powerful toned form of the ghoul before her, as his body pressed against hers, pinning her down. It was unnecessary, as she knew his single hand alone was enough to keep her down. Damn ghoul strength. Then again, he probably didn't want another unwelcome greeting with her fist, knee, or possible foot to face.

It was in the strained silence that she finally took note of their positions. Her flat on her back, legs dangling off the table from her knees. Him, standing between said spread legs, leaning in.

"Stop." She hissed, as his continued movements rubbed intimately against her heated core. Months of traveling the wastes took their toll. At least in Megaton, she had Jericho to have a rough and tumble with. What better than sex with no strings? They had been one and the same. Some would say murderers or killers. In truth, they were survivors. But everyone had needs.

Charon paused, confused. Her tone had shifted to a different kind of urgency. Possibly even a tint of panic. Though it would be the first weakness he had spotted since she walked in.

He shifted his weight, only to receive the surprise of a hitched breath. His cold eyes looked down at her curiously, before noticing the growing heat pinned beneath him. Him between her legs. Her sudden stillness and narrowed gaze. His brow raised. Surely she could not-

He raised questioning eyes to steely gray. Her tanned skin deepened as a flush rose. Her eyes were furious.

He smirked.

She practically snarled, "Just fuckin' kill me already."

Before he could even form a reply, his employer was raging at them both, "Get. Her. OUT of here!"

"Hmm. Your lucky day..." Charon rumbled with a grunt, pulling back from her warm body. Surprised to find himself a little unwilling to end the contact.

She just snarled wordlessly, shrugging off the helping hand to spring agilely to her own feet, dusting off broken chips of glass and ceramic plates.

"You are forbidden to leave Underworld until your debt to me is paid in full!" The bartender continued to rage.

"Fine, how much is that?" Ari snapped, though she was much more composed now that the ghoul had stopped touching her.

Her hairs stood on end, though. As he remained nearby. Close enough for her to reach out her arm... and punch.

She shook her head. She didn't want trouble. This far out, the Underworld looked to be gold in the trenches of shit and supermutants. She couldn't afford to stir things up when so much caps could be made in exchange.

"2,000 caps!" Azhrukhal demanded.

"Fine." The Lone Wanderer hadn't even batted an eye lash. She must've had that much in her pinky alone.

Made the bartender grumble as he kicked himself for not asking more.

She was straightening herself up, eyeing the smirking bouncer beside her, when her foot accidentally made forceful contact with an empty Nuka cola bottle. Said bottle 'accidentally' rebounded sharply off the face of a certain ghoul that had snarked the little comment that started the whole mess. Ari could only grin in satisfaction as she heard the ghoul cry out, stumble, and crash into a now-broken table.

"3,000!" Azhrukhal demanded triumphantly.

"Whatever." Ari waved off, brushing a stray strand from her face as she strode over to pick up her powerfist, tucking it into her pack as she scoured the ground for her most prized weapon.

Apparently, the greedy bartender wasn't done. He waved a certain plasma rifle in the air as he crowed, "AND... I think I shall be keeping this little rifle as a token of your deepest apology."

He hadn't liked her tone. And he didn't like the way she trashed his bar. This last comment really got to her, he noted with a wry grin, as the girl tensed in place.

The ghoul had gone too far.

No one. NO ONE, took her well earned weapons. Especially the one she got from A3-31, or Harkins, as the android had designated himself. That had been a hell of trouble to drag herself through, and it wasn't worth it for anything less than the rifle that was in the ghoul's grubby paws. Plasma rifles carried by the enclave were powerful enough, but that little baby was modified by the genius android himself. It was faster, lighter, and packed one hell of a punch.

Ari didn't realize she was moving until she was at the counter, the bartender fighting the urge to shrink back, though she could read it in his cowardly eyes. A light growl and a hand on her shoulder brought a surge of smugness and confidence in the suited man's eyes that did not belong there. Charon had shadowed her steps, and was towering behind her now.

Her weapon was so close.

The Lone Wanderer reached into her pack. But a second firm hand and solid grip, this time to her forearm, stopped her. Her eyes widened slightly at the silent strength in the limb. She wasn't caught off guard too often, but this was definitely one of those times. She couldn't move if she wanted to. She turned enough to catch the smirk in place on the bouncer's face. He had obviously caught her surprise, and was bolstered by it. She glared at him for a few moments longer before he let her go.

The message was sent.

Try anything and she wouldn't stand a chance.

She reached into her pack for the caps and tossed them on the counter. She could just feel the pure greed pouring from the sleazy ghoul's pores as he scooped them up.

"Of course." She said mockingly in reply, attempting to turn and get the hell out of there before she did something she might regret.

But a certain hand still placed on her shoulder forced her to stay. She sent a scathing glare up at it's owner, but Charon wasn't even looking at her. He was watching Azhrukhal. Feeling the body guard's intense stare, the bar owner looked up for a fraction from his counting before waving them off, "Yes, yes, she is free to leave."

The hand remained on her a moment longer than necessary, before she was released. Simmering in barely contained rage, Ari turned and stalked out of there without a word. Azhrukhal had just sealed his fate. For a man like him, she had something planned worse than death. She would take everything he owned.

Every valuable possession he held dear.

He shouldn't have fucked with her gun.

-o-o-o-

Revenge is a dish best served cold.

At least, that's what Ari had to keep telling herself as she waited. It only took a couple days of the Lone Wanderer coming in the Ninth Circle, buying drinks and acting like nothing happened, for Azhrukhal to let his guard down.

But it had been two weeks and that damn body guard was still watching her like a hawk.

Two fucking weeks!

Ari was starting to get the itch that always came from staying in one place for too long. The longest time she had ever spent in the same location was the vault. For 19 years. Fuck that.

Like hell she was going to head back out in the wastes without her gun, though. Who knows what sleezebag merchant the scum could sell her precious plasma rifle to.

She was running out of time.

Or rather, out of patience.

She was immersing herself in her latest book, whiskey in hand, when the thump of a drink on her table and the scrape of a chair announced the other's arrival.

Ari's eyes took in the leather-armored form of the body guard in surprise, before bitterness filled her. So far as she was concerned, this whole mess with her gun was as much Charon's fault as it was Azhrukhal's.

They sat there in relative silence, Ari pointedly reading her book, even as the silent ghoul studied her.

He was no imbecile. Though he couldn't speak much for his current employer.

She was clearly plotting something.

Charon took another deep chug, the vodka burning his torn throat. If she made a move against Azhrukhal, he would have to kill her this time. He was certain.

In the past, none of this would have phased him. Another face. Another smoothskin. Another dead body.

But this time was different.

SHE was different.

Surprise overtook him as he realized what his next step was going to be. He was going to do something for her he had never done before. He was going to warn her.

And for the life of him, he couldn't figure out the reason or logic behind it.

"If you physically harm him..." Charon broke the silence between them easily, taking another deep drink before setting the bottle down and continuing, "your ass... is mine."

Her eyes had flicked up to his as he finished the sentence. Unbidden, the words and the following growl sent a flurry of heated pictures through her brain. Namely with one muscled, naked ghoul riding her-

'What the FUCK is wrong with me?' She wondered, blushing a furious shade of red as the ghoul followed her lowering gaze. She caught herself before it could go much lower than the table top, but the damage was done.

The bastard was smirking again.

She recovered faster than she thought possible, barreling forward with a shield of rage.

"My ass," She snarled, slamming her drink down, "is my own."

His blue eyes gleamed with a smug, 'if you say so...'

"AND..." She continued through clenched teeth, burying the growing heat in anger, "I don't give a fuck what you know or what you THINK you know, but you don't have to worry. I won't be touching a hair on your precious friend's head."

The ghoul's eyes hardened. His hand clenched so hard on his bottle that it burst, cleaving through the uneasy air with chips of glass and booze. He leaned across the table, freshly broken shards glimmering on the top. Ari observed warily as his jaw clenched, broken bottle still in his trembling grasp. Normally, she was good with words, but this time Ariadne wondered if she had pushed it too far.

He stopped within an arms-length of her, which was already within dangerous limits. She forced herself to remain relaxed, glaring eye for eye.

He finally spoke.

The words that came out, however, were the last thing she had been expecting, "That rat bastard... is NOT my friend."

With that said, he left. Leaving a confused girl in his wake.

-o-o-o-

Ari did not have time to waste figuring out the mystery that was the silent bouncer at the Ninth Circle. Or at least, mostly silent. The most she had ever heard him talk was when he was threatening her or placing future threats on her person.

Personally, she thought he should be completely mute.

Of course, that wouldn't change the fact that he had a fuckin' sculpted body that anyone could get hot under.

Ari paused.

Reexamined that last thought.

Then promptly diagnosed herself as mentally insane.

She shook her head and focused on the task at hand.

Which was currently sneaking past drunk and snoring ghouls as she made her way to the Ninth Circle's counter. She could sneak her way behind an army of Super Mutants or a single Deathclaw. Making her way past a bunch of ghouls gone soft in the Underworld sanctuary was a cinch.

As she crouched behind the bar, she felt a sudden urge to call out, as though her plasma rifle would respond. She scoffed at the thought.

Getting serious, she thought hard. She hadn't seen her precious weapon since... well, since the jerk-off had taken it. Which means... ah ha! She could've crowed as her eyes fell on the safe tucked in the floor. It was nearly hidden by the shelf on top of it, unlike what must've been a decoy safe up on the wall.

She could already tell by looking at it, that it was a tough one. Determined, she took out her bobby pins and set about jiggling the lock. It took a good twenty minutes, ten near breaks of her pin, and a trickle of sweat down her brow, before the final bolt fell into place.

With a silent surge of pleasure, she watched the safe door swing open after that resolute click, catching the stubborn piece of metal before it could clash against the shelf it partially hid under.

Digging up her A3-31 Plasma, she practically preened before holstering it on her back, the familiar weight calming her frayed nerves. She then continued scooping the remaining loot in her bag -which included a shit load of caps and drugs- before closing the safe with a soft click. A little befuddled, she held the last item in her hand. It had been obviously important, as it was tucked safely away underneath everything else.

Of all things, it was a piece of paper.

Not a book and definitely not a schematic.

Ari frowned as she whispered the title to herself, "Contract...?"

She hissed, uttering a muffled curse as a deep red line appeared on her finger. Figures. She could cripple a limb or two, get a couple concussions and gun shot wounds, and still be bothered by something as simple as a paper cut.

A silent foot fall. Leather sole against the ground.

Her hair stood on end.

Ari jerked up, paper in hand, eye staring straight down the barrel of a familiar shotgun.

The tall, shadowed form was unmistakable. A sense of grim dread settled around them both, facing the inevitable outcome.

She should've known. Should've heard.

No one surprised her like this ghoul. No one ever could. Or she would be dead right now.

She glared at him, slowly standing. If this was how it would end, she would die standing.

His eyes were unreadable as he followed her movement, finger putting pressure on the trigger. Then the light cast over the parchment in her hand and he let out a sharp breath, standing straight as though physically struck. A small red splotch was barely discernable against the flickering glow, seeping slowly down the aged parchment, drying as fast as it had spilled. Blood. The smoothskin's...

Ari had tensed at his sudden movement, wary as she saw that shotgun lower harmlessly to the ghoul's side.

His whole demeanor changed, eyes holding hers in a way that had her chest constrict. Her lungs stalled, his gaze striking her as if she had been shot. For the first time, she saw the ever present grimace disappear, face resembling a ghastly smile.

She didn't know what he had planned. But the eager gleam in his eye promised it to be anything but pretty.

"Excuse me for a moment..." He purred, as though immensely pleased.

Ari was at a loss for words, as her executor turned and walked away, footsteps stomping to the slow beating of her heart. She blinked. He was heading for the cot of one Azhrukhal sleezebag. Charon kicked the sleeping ghoul awake, giving the man enough time to become coherent, with a stuttered, "Ch-Charon...?" tumbling from his lips.

Charon sneered, the look ghastly in the dark as light and shadows angled his features towards demonic, "I am no longer under your employ, Azhrukhal."

Understanding horror dawned on the man's face, a hand held out, "No... How-? Wait. Wait Charon- don't!"

BOOM. Cha-chung.

The first shot blew off his arm and part of his face.

BOOM. Cha-chung.

The second took care of the rest.

Standing in the gore that once was Azhrukhal, Charon felt the ending of the first, wicked smile in decades, disappear from his lips.

He turned to look at the silent girl.

But she was gone.

-o-o-o-

Ari was barreling down the hallway like hell itself was on her heels.

Could she not, in her short short life, ever run into someone normal?

Honestly.

For once, just once, it would be a nice change of pace!

Cerberus, the sentry bot, whirred questioningly at her as she sprinted past, but she had no time to chat. The door to the Ninth Circle slammed open and she risked a look back, fearing it was the demon ghoul on her heels. But it was just the drunks, rudely awakened and scattering out of the bar with panicked yells. She had just reached the end of the staircase when a voice, louder and more demanding than the rest, called out, "Smoothskin!"

She stumbled.

The familiar tone set her blood to ice. No no no no.

If someone like that could kill a person he was close to without blinking, what could he possibly do with her?

Friend or not, Azhrukhal had to have meant something to the larger ghoul.

Ari was as bad as they come. But this ghoul was ten times as crazy and the Lone Wanderer was in no mood to compete.

Winthrop gave her a confused glance as she breezed by, not stopping even as she burst through Underworld's door. The old double doors banged heavily against the marble walls, the dinosaur skeleton laughing as the echo from the violent motion lingered.

She had just reached the door to the Capital Wasteland, when she heard the first set of doors slam open behind her.

"Smoothskin!" There was warning and anger to his tone.

Damn he was fast!

"Fuck off!" Ari shouted in reply, glancing back past the t-rex. She wished she hadn't, the glimpse of the determined ghoul and his set blue eyes burnt straight into her soul. She couldn't breath.

She stumbled through the last set of doors.

Fresh air slammed into her from outside, forcing her stalled lungs back to work as the light of predawn blinded her. Willow aimed first, then just curiously stared as the girl continued sprinting past.

The old ghoul was even more surprised as Charon burst out a moment later. His taller form and longer stride were sure to help him catch up to the smoothskin, though Willow couldn't figure out why on earth he would want to. Unless he was trying to kill her. Shrugging, the old girl went back to patrolling.

It was stupid, Ari knew. Stupid to just run without looking. Run without discipline or without using your goddamned senses.

That's how people got killed.

Then irony slapped her in the face with a bitch stick.

In the form of a hulking, two ton, super mutant brute.

Eyes wide, Ari pulled her plasma rifle out even as he swung his sledge, obscenely large green muscles rippling as he gave a guttural roar, "Kill you!"

Her forward momentum from sprinting allowed her to do little else than sidestep, taking the brunt of the attack on the upper left side of her body, clipping her shoulder as she spun from the force.

Pain rippled through adrenaline-powered muscles.

She gave a shout of agony as she landed on the ground, arm dangling uselessly. Damn.

Dislocated.

She raised the rifle with one hand, blasting it as the Super Mutant came at her one more. Her good arm struggled, the weapon meant for two. She was aiming for his heart but hit his kneecap instead. He stumbled, sledge striking empty ground as Ari used the distraction to roll out of the way. She stumbled to her feet, firing blindly as the Brute turned to charge her once more.

She stumbled back, barely stepping out of another swing, before she had to throw herself to one side to dodge the monster entirely.

But he was on her before she could blink, arms and sledge raised one final time, "You die now!"

She had made plenty of mistakes the moment she walked out of the Vault to the shitty reality of the Capital Wasteland. But she never thought she could fuck up so much to be ended like this. In mere seconds by a crippled Mutie bucause she hadn't been paying attention.

She took a moment to think of her dad. Regret laced through he.

She was about to close her eyes.

Smoothly, silently, the ghoul stepped in front of her. Charon was the epitome of calm, unflinching power, as he poured lead into the creature's face. He reloaded and shot his shotgun again.

One handed.

BOOM. Cha-chung.

Time slowed. Ari watched the empty shells spiral after each ringing blast. With each shot, the Super Mutant staggered back. And with each stagger, the ghoul would take a step forward.

Face half gone, the Super Mutant took a swing with it's Super Sledge.

Charon lifted his leg, easily tilting his torso to compensate for balance, as he delivered a savage, booted blow to the Mutant's offending limb. The Brute's arm was kicked back like it weighed nothing, sledge hammer cutting a blunt path through the air before crunching into debris a yard or two away.

The ghoul graced the dying mutant with a final blow to its caved-in face, brain matter splattering from it's cranial prison.

The dead Super Mutant Brute fell to it's knees, finally toppling over as Charon stepped up to its corpse.

"You first." Charon grumbled as he crunched what was left of its gray matter, skull bits ground beneath his heel.

Gritting in pain, she eyed the leather-armored ghoul warily. Her eyes asked what her voice would not.

What did he want with her?

The ghoul merely stepped up to her, fury receding from his burning gaze. Leather boots crunched gravel and bone bits as he slung his shotgun over one shoulder, "My name is Charon. And you, Smoothskin, are my new employer."

He extended a helping hand.

But Ari was busy gaping.

What the fuck did she drag herself into this time? 


	2. Chapter 2

After refusing his hand up, a stubborn gesture seeing as how she brought even more pain firing through her nerves, Ari picked up her gun and headed mutely back to Underworld. Much to her chagrin and disappointment, Charon followed.

Pointed glares did little to dissuade him. Though Willow did give the most amused smirk at the little spectacle.

-o-o-o-

"Tell me you can get rid of this for me." Ari said beseechingly to the one ghoul she had warmed up to, her thumb jerking back towards the silent ghoul leaning next to Carol's doorway.

After her initial shock at the dangerous body guard's presence, Carol could only say, "I... can't. I'm sorry girly."

Carol's eyes strayed to the girl's bloodied, and dangling arm, "Shouldn't you get that looked at, Ariadne?"

"Later." Ari replied, ignoring the grunt of amusement behind her as she held up a piece of paper, "I'm assuming it has something to do with THIS."

"Oh my," Carol gasped, bringing a hand to her mouth, "You have his contract?"

"This is his?" Ari said with the beginnings of excitement, feeling progress was being made. She turned to address the ghoul himself, "This is yours?"

Charon merely nodded, face grim and unreadable. Though she almost detected a slight tightening of the arms crossed over his chest.

The Lone Wanderer turned back towards the older lady.

"Here, then." Ari tried to hand the contract to the white-dressed ghoul, but she shrunk back. The human blinked trying again, "Take it, I know you could use a body guard."

Greta stepped up from beside her, as Carol shook her head mutely, "We're fine without it, smoothskin."

"Well I can't- is there anyone else in Underworld that would take it?" Ari asked, not put off at all by Greta's attitude.

"Unlike some smoothskins and ghouls, the majority of us here don't agree with enslavement." Greta stated harshly, with a bitter laugh.

"I don't-" Ari started to say, exasperrated, "It was purely by accident and I-"

"Did you kill Azhrukhal?" The question took the Lone Wanderer by surprise.

Her steel gray eyes flickered to the stone faced Charon before turning back to Greta, "No."

"Then you bought it."

"No." Ari repeated, more harshly.

"Only blood or caps seals the contract, smoothskin." Greta said matter-of-factly.

"Azhrukhal did... die." Ari said, voice faltering.

"I see..." Greta trailed off slowly, exchanging a glance with her partner.

Seeing she wouldn't get much help here, Ari turned to the problem ghoul himself, shoving the parchment at him, "You take it then."

He didn't even budge.

He just gave her a look that asked just how dumb she could possibly be.

"Don't you wanna be free? Take it." Ari pushed the contract more towards the silent ghoul.

"It doesn't work like that." He finally grunted.

"Well," Ari frowned, huffing as she looked away, "why don't we just destroy it then-"

The Lone Wanderer cried out in surprise as she was suddenly turned and pinned to the wall, stone and marble pressing into her back as the wall of ghoul muscle trapped her front, "Then I'll just kill you."

Ariadne growled in a whisper, tired of his threats, "Like you won't do that once the contract changes hands? Like with Azhrukhal?"

"That rat bastard was an... evil man." The anger was evident in the ghoul's trembling voice.

"Well, I... am not a *good* person." Ari grunted, good arm pinned to the side, Charon's grip like a vice over her wrist.

Charon drew close enough for his breath to curl intimately against her neck, his head lowered to compensate for his frightening build, "Well... neither am I."

He jerked her by her good arm, dislocated shoulder suddenly against the wall. Then Charon simply shoved.

A different kind of howl escaped the Wanderer's lips, nerves scraping and sockets popping back into place. Her newly reconnected arm tingled, but that didn't stop her from swinging it in pure anger and adrenaline. Charon could've stopped it. Could've moved.

Which is why Ari was surprised when her fist connected soundly with his jaw. To her credit, his head whipped to the side and he faltered back a step.

To his, he didn't flinch or make a sound.

"Feel better?" He growled, wiping the small trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth.

Pushing herself from the wall, eyes narrowed in pain and anger, she muttered, "Not until I have you out of my hair."

"Please. Feel free to try." Charon grumbled, following as she departed through the door. The din of the Underworld's main communal area filtered back in their senses before they even stepped through. Though the immediate chatter stopped as the ghouls took in the sight of the smoothskin and the ghoul everyone took pains to avoid.

Charon felt his irritation surge forth, brow ticking. He did NOT like being stared at. Before he could snap, the little smoothskin snarled for him, "What?"

At which point everyone found something else to mutter and stare at.

Huffing, Ari marched her way over to the Chop Shop.

"I fixed your arm." Charon grunted as they neared the doors, taking note of where they were heading.

Ari arched her brow at the other, stating sarcastically, "And that does wonders to my ribs and bleeding gashes."

"I can fix those too." He rumbled, stopping in front of her.

"Oh no," Ari shook her head, hands raised, "I've seen your bedside manner. And frankly, it sucks."

"It is my job to-" Charon started to say.

"I don't know how it went with your former employers," Ari growled, stepping up to the taller ghoul, finger in his face, "but I do not NEED you to cater to me. I especially do not want you touching me."

Instead of anger, his own brow cocked up.

Oh for the love of-

Ari fought the heat that threatened to redden her face, she was not some naive young virgin to-

-okay, she WAS young-

-but she was not some naive virgin to blush at every-

Ari realized she hadn't said anything for a while. And Charon was looking at her very pointedly.

"Medically." She bit out, stepping around the other, "I do NOT want -I mean need- you touching me medically."

At his deep chuckle, she added vehemently over her shoulder, "Or for ANY other reason!"

He chuckled again.

He was amused until he realized her hand was on the handle. Arm shooting out, palm pressed against the door itself, Charon effectively shut entrance to the Chop Shop, growling in all seriousness, "I protect you. I fix you. ME. It's all in the contract."

"I didn't ask for your contract." Ari muttered, tugging uselessly on the door.

Fuck he was strong.

"Tough." Charon bit out, leaning closer, "Deal with it."

Her eyes narrowed.

Like hell she would.

Jabbing at the pressure point near his inner elbow, Ari grinned when the arm was forced to bend. Looks like reading those books did pay off. Slipping under his arm, she pulled the door open a fraction and squeezed through.

"See you in a bit." She said quickly, before the door shut and she locked it from the inside.

He heard the latch and bolt slide home, grimacing in irritation. He didn't even bother shaking it, knowing from experience just how well it held up against resistance.

Leaning against the wall, he crossed his arms to wait. He knew there were no exits where she went.

But this would be the last time she got away with something like this.

-o-o-o-

Ari backed away from the door slowly. She had been expecting some sort of retaliation, but when there was none, she turned and gave a small chuckle to the resident doctor and nurse of the Underworld.

If she had seen someone running into a room, locking it as they stared at the door, then slowly backed away from said door, she would be giving them strange looks as well.

-o-o-o-

Ari cursed. There were no exits. She had known earlier, but unless she fancied a tango with the glowing ones in the observatory, there was really no other option.

Getting slowly irradiated was probably not the best way to leave the world, anyway.

What irked her the most was that she knew... she just knew... that Charon had known there was no escape for her in the Chop Shop.

Freshly bandaged, she unlocked the double doors, stepping cautiously out into main hall of Underworld. The fires from the drums and torches cast an ominous glow off patterned marble, every shadow becoming the possible ghoul she had become the unwilling employer of. She held her breath, taking another step.

A quick stride echoed in the hall, a hand suddenly gripping the elbow of her good arm.

She couldn't help the jolt that ran through her system at his touch, but she did stifle the gasp of surprise by biting her lip. She was just turning her head to glare at him when she felt, then saw him, gently lifting her bandaged arm.

Before she could demand what he was doing, he released both arms, catching her off guard by just how carefully he did it, as though thinking she would break. He grunted begrudgingly, "Good work. A little sloppy, but good nonetheless."

Shaking away her surprise, she shouldered her pack and continued walking, "What? Never been fixed up at the Chop Shop before?"

He fell easily into step beside her, his longer gait easily shortening to match her forcibly relaxed strides. He sensed her tense at this, and couldn't help the smirk that arose. For the last century he had fallen from the bad choices that had landed him with a contract in the rat bastard paws of Azhrukhal. He had done the evil man's bidding for so long he had forgotten what it was like just to grin.

The man had a personality of a radroach, and such a sleazy way with the ladies that any who even made it this far in the wastes were quickly driven away by his... 'charm'.

"Never had to." He said in answer, looking off to the side in thought, "Did it myself."

"Huh..." Ari trailed off.

So the bastard wasn't immortal after all.

Almost as though he sensed her train of thought, Charon continued.

"Of course, reattaching my own arm once was fuckin' difficult. Thought I damaged it beating the guy who sliced it off in the first place. But my arm was fine. Too bad about his face, though. Never knew teeth could poke out someone's eye like that." Charon reminisced, slightly grinning as though it was a fond memory. Ari, on the other hand, cringed as each detail was exposed. Almost as a side note, Charon tossed in breezily, "Did I forget to mention violence on your part null and voids the contract?"

"I... I already hit you at Carol's."

"That was excusable."

"So who decides what's excusable and what's not?"

"Me."

"..."

"Care the share?"

"Not even a little, no."

Ariadne was glancing longingly towards the exit. But she felt as though the best place to get rid of Charon was here. Before he knew where her favorite hangouts and routes were.

"Did I mention I was an excellent tracker?" Charon tossed in out of nowhere, his tone once again offhand as though merely commenting on the weather, "Even before the Ninth Circle gig I excelled at it. Not to mention my interrogation skills are unmatched, if a little messy."

"I... see." Ariadne fought the crestfallen look that threatened to take over. Perhaps she had the edge on him, still. He couldn't possibly know where she lived. He has just met her.

"Shall we traverse to your favorite room in Rivet City? Or the nice shack you own in Megaton?"

Ari rounded on him with a hard look, disbelief making her tremble slightly, "How did you-"

"Coating of red dust under your nails, over your clothes, in your pores, screams where you reside. Rust and iron on your boots from continued tread in a certain bucket of bolts carrier, hinted at the other. Besides, you smoothskins are easy. Always grouping in packs, no matter how much traveling you do." Charon said smugly, arms crossing over his chest.

He enjoyed the slight floundering in the woman's normally contained composure, before she closed her parted lips, a picture of control once more.

"I see." She said shortly, hiding the whirlwind of emotions behind her steel gray eyes. Her jaw was set, as she realized just how tough shaking the ghoul body guard was going to be. She turned to stride away, heading towards the exit in humbled defeat.

For now.

With a smirk, Charon followed.

It had been a long time since he had worked for such an... interesting client.

-o-o-o-

The idea struck her just as they were walking down the deserted highway. She whooped so loud and suddenly, that Charon was beside her in a split second, shotgun unholstered and ready in his sights.

When he realized there was no danger, he slowly lowered his weapon, giving her a scowling glare.

What the fuck, smoothskin?

He definitely did not like the mischievous gleam to her eye, as though she had just discovered how to kill a Deathclaw with her gaze alone. Or maybe just Charon.

"I just figured out how to get rid of you." She grinned, positively beaming.

"Really?" Charon grunted, brow cocked.

This had to be good.

"I... will simply find you a new employer." Ari said, smug.

Silence.

The Vault Kid turned to the side, eyes briefly snagged by the ghoul's burning blue eyes. Then Charon turned, releasing her just as quickly.

"If that is what you wish." He grumbled nonchalantly, staring off in the distance. But his tone gave it away, sounding like he was speaking through shards of glass, broad shoulders set so stiff she thought he might explode at any moment. He startled her as he suddenly stalked off, "Excuse me for a moment."

She could only stare as he headed off into the dead brush, shotgun in hand. Moments later a blast rocketed through the air, making her jump at its suddenness in the still air. A pained squeal of a radscorpion echoed in the night. Thinking nothing of it, she started walking towards the direction of Megaton, lifting her pipboy to double-check.

BOOM.

She jerked back, hearing that same scorpion cry out once more. Her finger slipped on the pipboy latch, eyes searching the darkness.

Jesus.

Three more shots rang out, each pained squeal more excruciating than the last.

Flipping the device open, she hastily checked her location and started walking. She didn't want to think of what Charon had possibly done to make the mutated insect scream like it did. All she knew was she wanted to be as far from whatever grisly concoction her 'bodyguard' was painting up.

She had been on her quickened pace for almost an hour before the familiar, silent tread resumed at her side.

She nearly jumped at his sudden arrival, nervousness clawing its way up her back.

She didn't know what to make of him.

He was the picture of calm, controlled precision. From the short time she knew him, she could glean exactly what he was good at. Killing.

And from the look on his face, he fucking enjoyed it.

Hell, miss 101 enjoyed some blood now and then, but she made it with stealth, grace, and ease. If killing was taught in class like in the vaults, Charon would be the one kicking down the door and bludgeoning the teacher with his own book. Straightforward. Crude. Brutal.

But very much effective.

The uncontrollable rage he flipped like a switch, would be a problem, though.

Not that it mattered.

It wasn't like Ari was planning on keeping him. She made it this far on her own. She'd be damned before she'd let the ghoul tag along like some slave. She hadn't wanted the contract. Hadn't wanted him.

Now, for the moment, it seemed she was stuck with both.

With an irritated sigh, she quickened her step. As if she could outpace her problems. In a way, the quicker she found another employer for him, the sooner she could get him off her back.

Charon just eyed her slender form with some amusement, before falling easily into her gait, no more than a few paces behind her own.

-o-o-o-

He watched her across the dancing flames of their sad campfire. She had almost looked surprised when he had gathered the necessary bits of trash and kindling when they stopped. It looked as though her plan had been to gather it all herself, but Charon was always two steps ahead. Though for the Vault Kid, he graced her with at least five. She was a wily one, after all. Throughout the day, she had attempted several times to give him the slip.

Only for Charon to show her up every time.

He grinned at the memory of her distress, finding him lounging against the exit, after she had traversed the underground sewers in hours instead of the mere 30 minutes necessary, in an attempt to elude him.

Or when they had taken a bunch of raiders by surprise, she had surprisingly held her own against more than half of them, taking them down with precision shots with her plasma rifle in seconds.

When three were left, the ones currently fighting the ghoul, Charon had quickly dispatched them before immediately sprinting after her, knowing before looking around that she had run. He merely gave an amused snort as she cursed him to hell and back, when he found her moments later, about to disappear into the nearby canyons.

The look on her face when he leapt a whole fifteen feet from an upper ledge, to land right in front of her path...

...priceless.

Something even more amusing, however, was her brief moments of baffled silence. It was just in the small things Charon would do. Such as carving out the valuable poison gland in mutant carcasses, tossing the next clip of microfusion cells before she needed to reload, or even simply making the campfire.

It was as though she had never had assistance before. Or at least never expected it.

From anyone.

Charon eyed her.

Shit, and he thought his life was fucked up. The centuries of radiation and mutation may have led up to the very ghoul he was today, but his prewar life still held treasured memories. Memories of loving, caring people. As much as his blood-soaked brain tried to forget them, they were there, taunting him. Though... the faces were no longer clear, just smudges in the stretched history of his life. Not that it fucking mattered. What use were warm and fuzzy memories in a land that threatened to eat away every last bit of your humanity? All in the name of survival.

Speaking of which, how had a slender young thing survived out here in the Wastes? And alone to boot?

There was nothing special, so far as he could see. His gaze raked over her form, trying to discern if there was some secret he had yet to figure out. It had only been one day, yet traveling together felt as though an eternity had passed between them. So much time and yet so little. Fighting to live when the environment -and all its dangers- called for your blood has that kind of effect.

She was hard on the outside, but very soft on the inside. He could just tell.

He couldn't understand why she was so displeased with owning his contract. Was it because he was a ghoul? Anger rose, then faded within him. She never shrunk back from the ghoulified faces in Underworld, never flinched. He knew because he had been watching. The barest shift of a muscle, a look, is all he needed to know if she wanted to attack, fall back, or flat out flee. And in watching for that, he realized just how comfortable she was around his kind.

What a strange smoothskin.

He found his eyes traversing her body for more reasons than just to discover how she ticked, however, when they paused on the generous swell of her chest. He felt a slight stirring in his loins that hadn't heated up for a little over a century. There wasn't much of that supple skin showing beneath her armor, so his gaze rose to the unprotected curve of her throat. His mouth watered with a sudden urge to bite. It wouldn't be ruined skin of previous ghoul fucks, but the silky, tempting flesh of a smoothskin. Of her.

His eyes suddenly dropped to the juncture of her thighs. His eyes pausing at the supple curve of her slender waist and hips, imagining gripping it with bruising force, as he impaled her with his own meat. Right where his eyes finally settled. He felt himself twitch, imagining the heat of it. The hard thrusts.

Would she be willing? Or would he have to hold her down?

At the feral smirk that started to form on his lips, Charon started.

What the fuck was he thinking?

She was a smoothskin. He was a ghoul. Not to mention she was his employer.

Forcing the beginnings of lust down, he raised his eyes in bitter resignation, bringing them past her feminine curves to those steel eyes. Only to have the heat skyrocket once more. She was staring at him. Or rather, as he traced her deep gaze, a certain part of his anatomy. The part that sorely wanted to bury itself deep within her wet folds. He was seated, hunched slightly with elbows resting on widely parted knees.

Had given her the perfect vantage point, though covered as his awakening erection was.

But she seemed too deep in thought to notice.

Ari, herself, had been eyeing the ghoul subconsciously. His broad shoulders, sizable arms and a tall, solid form that radiated pure muscle and power. She couldn't help replaying how easily he had kicked the Super Mutant's arm when it swung it's sledge. Granted, it had been shot multiple times, but those beasts were resilient. Not to mention ripped to the brim like ridiculous power houses.

And his eyes... that barely contained rage in them at the time... had shifted to something else when he had turned to look at her after her 'rescue'. Granted, she wouldn't have been in that type of predicament in the first place had he just stopped chasing her. Still... all that rippling power was... intoxicating. Not to mention when he had vaulted down that ledge like he had been hopping down a few steps. Nothing phased him. Intimidated him. Made him flinch. What would it be like underneath him? Or above him? Hell, standing or bent over something even, so long as he was thrusting inside her.

As she found herself getting a little moist at the thought, she berated herself. What was she doing? She was supposed to think of ways to get rid of him, not ways to rid herself of all her pent up, sexual energy. She jerked her eyes upwards at a grunt from the hunk of ghoul meat himself.

She paled. How long had she been staring? And had he noticed?

His blue eyes exuded a cocky satisfaction as his lips curled around his purred words, "Find somethin' interesting, smoothskin?"

Ari came to the morbid realization that he had, even as an intense flush traveled down from her toes, all the way up to her flaming face.

Fuck her.

She reigned in her embarrassment in record time, snarling the first words that reached her tongue, "Shut it."

Instead of having the desired affect, it merely inspired a deep, rolling chuckle from the ghoul before her. She wasn't sure, but it almost looked as though there was a gleam to his eye. Probably just the fire.

Standing, she made a point of looking off in the distance, jaw clenched to keep the nervousness at bay. Her anger helped.

"Get some shut eye." She said, tone clipped, "I'll take first watch."

She cradled her Plasma Rifle tightly, risking a glance in his direction. That damn smirk was still there, especially when he pulled out her pack as he was shifting, getting comfortable on the hard ground.

That was HER fucking pack. How had he-?

Her mouth opened to protest, a frown already marring her brow, when Charon gave her a serious look, "In case you get any ideas for a late night stroll."

Fuming at his underhanded forethought, she turned tightly and growled over her shoulder, "I'll be sure to thank you as I die slowly from a Yoa-Gui clawing into me."

"Not possible." The ghoul's voice mumbled, sounding more weary than he had let her hear before, but still filled with conviction, "I'd rip its throat off first and hand you its head."

The comment struck a vulnerable chord within her, but she quickly shoved down the warm feeling in favor of anger once more. She didn't need anybody. Others made you weak. Others distracted you. Slowed you down.

Others died.

Or left you...

Ari turned, having half a mind to rip him a new one. But he was already fast asleep, pack snugly held against his chest. The sight had the odd effect of soothing her rage. His expression was so... well... different when not in his perpetual frown. She could almost see what he must've looked like before...

Damn. He must've been more exhausted than he let on.

Ari settled back down in her seat, just looking at the peaceful ghoul. She resolved to take a tight stroll around the perimeter. But later.

It's definitely been a while since she had a traveling companion. Not since Jericho a couple months prior. He was a shitty helper. But a good lay. She had mainly strung him along for the heated fuck sessions each night. But that had stopped since he had eyed a passing merchant in Megaton. Even Ari had thought the broad was smokin'. But Jericho thought dick first, brain later. Much later.

So Ari broke it off. It ended a little more bloody than she'd intended, but he should be glad she kept it above the waist.

She drew herself out of bitter reveries back to the moment at hand.

She couldn't help but stare at the sleeping gun for hire. Nor could she help the feeling akin to contentment that washed over her.

-o-o-o-

Her eye twitched.

The moon had traveled a quarter from the horizon.

It was now or never.

With all the stealth she could muster, miss 101 stole across the fire, stopping inches from his slumbering form. How far could she travel before he woke? Before he tried to find her? It didn't matter. She just needed that pack.

Ari worried her bottom lip as she crouched low, eyeing her precious backpack under his arm.

She would have to do the bait and switch. Luckily she had an extra bundle of useless clothes picked from a dead merchant. It was unfortunate they hadn't been able to save him, but his caps and equipment more than made up for any thanks he might've given.

Steeling her nerves, she gripped the bundled clothes in one hand, her other hovering above Charon's leather covered arm. She trained her eyes for the exact moment when- now!

His grip had slackened during a particularly deep snore. Ari took the opportunity to smoothly grab his sleeve, suspending it a mere fraction higher as she slipped the pack out. A moment of triumph stalled her movements. Then the next worst thing happened. His hand twitched at the loss, extending and grabbing the nearest thing. Namely, her.

Ari let out a silent breath as she was dragged forcefully to his chest, her movements jerky as she fought between tearing away and going with it to prevent him from waking. But it was too sudden. And his arm too strong. Thankfully she had the pack in her outstretched arm, falling hard on her right side as he pulled her closer. The clothes she had dropped in her fleeting moment of 'oh-fuck-me' panic.

Her breath escaped her at the unexpected impact, but she was just glad it hadn't been her sore and healing left side she landed on. Unfortunately, this meant her whole front was flush against the solid wall of his, but she didn't exactly have a choice in the matter.

He grumbled something and Ari froze. She was caught. And her eyes darted up to his. Expecting anger. Irritation.

But she relaxed when she realized he had just been muttering in his sleep, saying something similar sounding to 'smoothskin', eyes still shut.

Her relief was short-lived as he shifted, the hand pressed against the small of her back traveling lower to cup her ass. Indignant, she felt the heat rising inside her, about to slap him despite the consequences when said hand jerked her hips against his. His hold on her firm rear had the unfortunate leverage to force her leg over his, giving her full and unhindered contact of her clothed sex against a prominent, bulging hard on in his own leathers.

She gave a sharp gasp, feeling helplessly molded and contorted to his body against her will. Even asleep, Charon was stronger than she could ever hope to be.

Before she could begin her struggle, Charon repeated the movement, brushing her sex oh so pleasantly against his throbbing manhood. It sent a shock of heat through her down to the curling of her toes. She could feel herself getting moist. The hand curled possessively around her ass didn't help either, sending shivers of pleasure through her nerves.

"Ch-" She started to say, but cut herself off with a stifled moan, the ghoul once again repeating the motion. Even through the layers of clothing, the way his bulge rubbed thoroughly against her clit elicited a deep shudder of heat and pleasure.

Her grip on the pack had disappeared altogether, the right hand opening completely as she arched slightly in pleasure. She cursed as she heard the pack roll away, stopping on its side. Twisting her torso -right arm still fully extended above her- she tried finding the leverage to crawl desperately away.

She didn't notice his left arm, the strong bicep situated under her side, until he curled it around her back and shoulders with a growl. When his fingers hooked around her left arm, effectively pinning her upper limbs in place, she froze.

Hell.

Rigid, she focused frozen gray orbs on his face, not sure if it would be better if he was awake or not. The ghoul's features were twisted in a frown, but the edges were softened by sleep.

Oh god.

So this was like sleep cuddling.

But worse.

So so soooooo much worse.

Ari suppressed a gasp as both Charon's arms tightened, molding her taut body closer to his. Then he started moving. Guiding her slowly, but grinding with more than enough sinful pressure, the ghoul unknowingly started the slow spiral to her end.

She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, whimpering. How was he not waking up?

Oh fuck, what if he did wake up?

She twisted, but this only made the ghoul growl and press her tighter to him. His actions, though sluggish, became faster. Rougher.

The bulge rubbed demandingly against her covered sex, and her lips parted in a soundless cry. The heat was tumbling through her, firing up her nerve endings as sounds outside of the slowly building pressure became drastically reduced and less important. Her left arm, pinned and trapped between their chests, fisted his leathers.

Closer. She was getting closer.

Her breath was coming in pants and gasps, her right arm clawing at the dirt above her. She was no longer concerned for escape so much as release. The heat tightened and curled like a physical thing in her gut.

She imagined opening the ghoul's leathers and impaling herself on his thick meat.

"Fuck..." Her voice came out strangled as the image forced a damp heat between her legs.

Apparently, the sleeping ghoul approved with a rumble through his chest, the vibrations doing things to her sensitive nipples through their shirts. Crap, she must've needed it more than she thought.

The reality of who it was that was doing this to her came crashing through the cloud of pleasure.

Her fisted hand tightened, the beginnings of renewed struggle strengthening her limbs.

But then Charon shifted his grip, rolled their hips just right, and Ari shuddered.  
>She mewled, her spread legs unable to defend her wet heat from the demanding bulge that ground so perfectly against her. Arms pinned in the ghoul's unforgiving grip, she could do nothing but take it in pleasurable silence.<p>

It came so suddenly that Ari barely had time to turn her head, biting her own arm to muffle her cry of ecstasy. It jolted through her, curling her toes and surging heat through her blood.

A growl jerked her attention upwards before the ending ripples of her orgasm could flush from her system.

Open blue eyes sent a shock through her system.

She realized with sluggish, dawning horror, that it was not her own arm she had bitten.

Charon blinked slowly, before another growl ripped through him. The glazed look of surprised completion fit her gray eyes well. Her parted lips and flushed skin made the ghoul's blood boil. And was she... biting him? Instinct took over and he rolled them both over until she was underneath him.

The way her eyes narrowed into a glare was delicious. Almost better than the moan he wrenched from her sweet smoothskin throat as he thrust deeply against her.

He didn't know how she ended up against him in his sleep, post-orgasm flushing her cheeks a deeper shade of red. Hell, who the fuck cared? She was here now, and from his own raging hard on, Charon didn't doubt he had played a large part in it.

He kneed her legs farther apart as he rolled his hips deeply against her. It felt nice as she arched against him, covered chest rubbing briefly against his. He wanted nothing more than to make her reach her peak once more. To be conscious this time as she did so.

It had been too long.

Too long.

She made a choked sound, hands scrabbling for purchase on the ground before latching desperately onto his forearms, muscles there barely flinching in her iron grip. One of his arms had been placed above the apex of her neck and shoulder, keeping her body from straying far from the pounding force he exerted on her. Without it, she would have been sliding upwards on the ground, possibly towards escape. He couldn't have that at all.

Not when she was so deliciously out of breath, lips parted in a futile effort to supply oxygen to her brain. He could see coherency battling for dominance within those grey orbs, the lust clouding them.

He needed to go faster.

Moving the other arm, his large hand cupped her ass and inner thigh with bruising force as he jerked her hips off the ground, pressing more helplessly against his merciless grinding.

"Oh... Fuck!" The Smoothskin cried out at the change of position, her clit and wet sex spread more open to the ghoul's relentless assault. It was as though the layers of clothes were nonexistent. The fingers curled under her thigh and ass sent a heated tremor to her core, despite the amount of force that was applied. Or maybe because of it.

Her hips were being dragged against his upper thighs, his bulging length, and his lower torso, before being jerked back down and repeated. Each time wrenched a powerful cry from her lips, the heat and wetness spiraling higher and higher.

She had fucked before. With nameless faces. With Jericho. Multiple times before his mistake. They hadn't been exclusive or anything, but Ari didn't share.

But she had never fucked with her clothes still on, and have it be this...

...HOT.

A small part of her scrounged up anger in her denial. She shouldn't be letting this happen, the ghoul was taking far too many liberties. She finally tore her glazed eyes from his sculpted form, fighting down the oncoming rush of heat threatening to burst over her like a dam.

She didn't expect to meet piercing blue eyes, glaring challengingly back, as if daring her to deny that this whole thing was just... that good. The way he looked at her was as though he meant to devour her, a pleased purr rumbling forth as he noted the fury in her eyes. The extra vibrations, as well as the unquenchable thirst in his gaze, were the last to send her tumbling over the edge.

She arched off the ground, her head the only part making contact as she cried out, body shuddering in her sudden release.

She was vaguely aware of a frustrated growl coming from above her.

More.

Charon needed more.

It wasn't enough just having her come twice, though he was only awake for one earth-shattering moan of the girl's completion, her body fully pressed against his as though she were placed on this cursed world for him alone.

He had taken girls to bed. Smoothskins when he had been one, ghouls when he hadn't. Working in the Ninth Circle had only multiplied the amount of offers, though ghouls had been the only ones around to proposition. Any smoothskins passing through were never worth a grain of Charon's attention. Not to mention they never lasted long. In bed or out.

A ghoul Charon may be, but he never lost the rugged sex appeal he had in abundance back when his skin hadn't been fucked up.

Never had he felt the simple need to just bury himself into a woman, and a smoothskin no less, until his meat ached and she couldn't walk for days. There was a fire in this woman he had never seen before. A desire to live and do whatever the fuck she pleased. If anything, this only added to her appeal. He was tired of beaten down, trodden over, and despairing ghouls. The Underworld had 'em in fucking spades. But this girl... she was different. She was a breath of fresh air in the stagnant cease pool of Charon's life. The only interesting thing to come along since he was damned with the contract to his very soul. The only employer who didn't even want his services.

Who didn't even want him slaving for her and yet couldn't deny this... this intense animalistic need boiling between them.

She didn't want to need him.

And it made him hotter than the damn wasteland itself.

Never had he wanted to fuck someone so thoroughly.

And never had he been so frustrated that he was conscious enough to know that doing so would destroy something... important...

Whatever the fuck that was.

With another displeased growl, he flipped her onto her hands and knees as easily as though he were turning a page, though with barely enough restraint to keep from tearing the metaphorical object. Fuck that. How about he just tear her clothes off here and now?

He got a grip of himself just as he realized his own meat was free and he was pulling her pants down to mid thigh. He caught sight of the smoothskin's perfect thighs and unbelievably wet underwear and just froze, hands stilling on the hem of her leathers, keeping her still and exposed as a war raged in his lust-clogged mind.

Ari didn't realize the new position until cold air hit her undergarments, rocks and dirt digging into her hands and knees.

Cold fear hit her spine at what the next step would be. The only thing standing between her dripping honey pot and his throbbing cock was her underwear. A surge of heat followed the ice, confusing her. Never before had she had such an insatiable partner, as deadly and driven in bed as he was out in the Wastes. He saw. He took. He fucked.

Despite her predicament, Ari found herself hugely turned on. A new surge of wet arousal dampened her already slick sex. Her thighs trembled in his immovable grip.

When he stopped, however, it gave her poor sex-deprived brain enough breath for thought.

He was going to fuck her. Without her consent. Who the hell did he think she was? Some wasteland slut that would let anyone plow into her at the blink of an eye?

Tensing, she turned her head and gave him the deadliest glare. She couldn't deny he looked good there, positioned behind her, looking ready to fuck her six feet under.

But this was a matter of principle.

"Charon..." She growled warningly, voice husky from all the moaning she had put her throat through.

Blue eyes flicked towards her, an internal struggle clearly within their normally stoic depths.

At the sound of her voice, however, all doubts vanished, and he gave a low rumble of approval.

Fuck.

He wouldn't...

The fact that he didn't make a move to tear off her thin underwear was a short-lived victory when his throbbing shaft slid achingly across her covered sex. Simultaneously, the front of his thighs met the back of hers, his cock pressing urgently along the length of her lips and clit and then some, balls making a small smacking sound against her satin skin.

They both groaned. Fueled by lust. By anger. By pure and simple need.

Half-heartedly, Ari tried to crawl forward and away from the suffocating heat and pleasure. She had cum twice already, and they had been traveling all day. Even if she wanted to, she couldn't possibly continue.

Hands clamped harder around her, as a fierce growl erupted from behind her. With unnecessary force, she was yanked back, startling her with just how good the feeling of him sliding against her slickened underwear felt. She cried out as he continued to grind against her with an animalistic insistence, arm holding her hips in place.

"F-fuck..." She gasped as he ground torturously against her clit with each stiff stroke. Her undergarments were so soaked they clung to her inner folds as well as the intruding shaft, sliding pleasurably against her sex at each passing.

For the ghoul, the way she felt, every sound she made, was amazing. It all added to the heated blood draining to his meat, twitching as it continued imagining driving into her wet need. He couldn't believe how easily her juices were covering his shaft, underwear or no. The way she continued to even attempt a struggle did wonders for his animal side, bent on fucking her until she surrendered.

"Cha-ron..." She growled in separate puffs of air, saying his name like it was a curse falling from his lips.

He purred pleasantly, making a shiver run down her spine.

He needed more.

More of her.

He needed to touch her velvet skin. Make her quake beneath him in ecstasy. Make her cry out once more.

His free hand journeyed under her shirt, grabbing a hold of her full and pert breast, the satin fullness heaven in his cupped palm. Even better with the shrill gasp he tore from her as he rubbed calloused hand against hardened nipple. She rocked her hips against him at this, pleasing the ghoul even more. He continued fondling her breast, enjoying her wanton movements timed perfectly with his.

She was biting her lip, attempting to silence her breathy moans of pleasure, but he stopped that with a deeper roll of his hips, an expert twist of his fingers. Then she was moaning unabashedly once more.

More.

The voice inside him growled.

Needed.

More.

She was close, he could tell. Her slender body was tightening, shudders wracking through her. Her struggles lessened as she became more and more wound in the tight spiral to their mutual end. Her pants quickened, her hips surging harder against him.

He needed-

Ari's eyes widened as a large hand found its way under her garments, thumb expertly rubbing her clit as the fingers pressed deeply against her womanhood.

At the same moment, the dam broke and she was seeing more stars than there should be in the sky. The night was pierced with her uncontrolled scream of release, body arching against the solid muscle of ghoul keeping her in place.

The feel of her slick softness under his hands, the sounds, the heat, the smell that was purely... HER... it was too much.

It was enough.

He came with a soul-wrenching cry of satisfaction, the loudest he had ever been outside of a fight.

His seed coated the ground with such urgency he wasn't sure how his equipment even remained intact.

When it all finally drained out of him he shuddered, spent. With bone-aching slowness, he released the girl and rolled onto his back, his meat re-sheathed in his pants, breaths coming out harshly.

Fuck.

That had been the best lay of his life. Which was saying a lot, through his almost two whole century's worth of experience. And he hadn't even gotten inside.

Hell, Charon was so satisfied, he could probably die happy.

Which... was probably a good thing, seeing as how the Lone Wanderer was glaring down at him past the lens of her rifle.

Cool. Composed.

Deadly.

The warning whine of the plasma gun spiked danger through the ghoul as much as that furious glare she aimed straight at him. The muzzle of the gun brushed his temple, but it was her eyes that felt as though they were piercing his skull.

He was dead. He was beyond dead.

And he deserved it.

But he wouldn't take any of it back.

This was all relayed through his calm gaze alone, awaiting whatever fate his employer had in store for him. He knew the contract was void should she inflict violence on his person. He knew it. She knew it.

So she had damn better kill him in one shot. His fierce smirk said that in itself as an afterthought.

But, to his immense surprise, she stepped back, gun lowering harmlessly to the dirt beside her.

"Take liberties like that again, and I will fuckin' end you." She growled menacingly, her confusion at his lack of fight turning quickly to the more familiar anger.

It worked when her father abandoned her.

When her vault neighbors turned on her.

When the wastes threatened to chew her up and spit her out.

And she would be damned if this lone ghoul would get the better of her.

Despite the post-orgasm high that threatened to topple her off her feet as she strode away, she couldn't help thinking how much simpler life would be once she ditched him. Solitary life was far less complicated than the myriad of emotions rushing through her now. Feelings she had buried deep. Out of necessity and will to survive. The Wastelands were harsh enough to anyone who survived after the bombs dropped. Being a woman only multiplied that.

She couldn't shoot him without the risk that the bastard would stay alive long enough to cripple or even kill her. Though the first would be a death sentence on its own, seeing as how they were miles from anything resembling the scraps of respectable civilization.

She heard him climb slowly to his feet behind her, and unconsciously tightened her grip on her rifle. Her trigger finger was itching something fierce, tonight. And unfortunately, the one thing she wanted to shoot was the one unmeasurable factor that needed to be kept alive... for now.

She wasn't aware of the appreciative gaze that raked slowly over her retreating form. Or the silent purr that escaped his throat.

Perhaps he wouldn't get another chance like that again, but he could already tell traveling with this particular smoothskin would be... interesting... to say the least.

Slinging his shotgun over one shoulder, and holding her pack loosely in his other hand, he scuffed the campfire out with a single kick as he followed his new employer into the night. 


	3. Chapter 3

Ariadne sprinted down the maze of ravines, thanking whoever it was that watched over the miserable Wastes, for the freak sand storm. Her body was sore from the recent fight with super mutants, but it was worth it to slip away.

Should this escape be foiled as the countless others had-

-which she not about to think about right now-

-her original new owner man hunt plan was still held up in reserve.

Don't get her wrong, it helped a lot to have the hulking body guard at her side, but she liked free will. Not only did 'employing' Charon go against her own personal morals, it was also irritating not to be able to have a choice in the matter.

It had nothing at all to do with the heated session last night. Nope. No relation at all.

The sand and grit began to burn as the wind continuously lashed the solid particles against her skin. Granted, she didn't have much exposed, but her face was starting to feel a little raw. Pulling out some goggles she had stowed from some raider junkie -now rotting in a ditch for half a day at least- she snapped them on before tucking a frayed rag underneath, completing her makeshift mask. She felt the difference immediately, a small sigh of relief escaping her chapped lips. Hunkered down near a sand-smoothed boulder, the lone wanderer darted her grey gaze through the open space. Not that it did her any good. The sand and debris in the air was so thick you couldn't see more than three feet in front of you at any given time.

'Both a blessing and a curse,' Ari thought grimly to herself.

With a smirk back in the direction she had allegedly escaped from, the Vault Kid shouldered her pack and trudged onwards. The wind howling almost in victory.

-o-o-o-

Damn employer was going to be the end of him.

Charon squinted through the storm, the irritating sand doing little to pierce his tough, leathery hide.

His thoughts wandered back to last night. Perhaps it hadn't been a good idea, fuck, not even a great idea, to continue what he had started in his sleep.

But it had been damn satisfying all the same.

Usually his former employers had ordered him around. Sometimes even to perform such sexual acts on themselves or, as Azhrukhal had, on paying customers. But that was just it. He could command his body to do it to fulfill orders. No lust necessary.

Of course he had to release the shortly awakened stirrings for the brief moments afterwards in his downtime.

But this employer... this smoothskin... he couldn't control himself around her. And it had only been two days.

Two fucking days.

She got under his skin. But it wasn't entirely... unpleasant.

Blood still boiling from battle lust from the super mutants started to veer down another path as images flashed before him. Of creamy skin. Silk dark hair. Those sated grey eyes.

The feel of her wet heat.

Wet with need.

Because of him.

Growling, he clenched his fist and shook his head. He needed to focus. To find the smoothskin. His employer.

And, if necessary, take more extreme measures to ensure she couldn't just run off again.

He smirked.

Once he caught her -because there was no question about *if*, but *when*- he knew just what to do.

And the smoothskin wasn't going to like it one bit.

-o-o-o-

Ari avoided any and all rock formations that looked to offer shelter or even a cave. She merely zigzagged her way through the valley, thankfully not running into any beasts or mutants along the way.

It would seriously slow her down, not to mention possibly draw unwanted attention from a certain ghoul.

At the thought of Charon, the lone wanderer frowned. He was an enigma, that one. How could a contract possess someone so... fully? And why did he seem so intent on being employed? By her of all people?

And why was she so intensely bothered by it?

The dark side of her nudged her, demanding that she think of all the possibilities. A body to constantly watch her back. Warm her bed.

Loyal only to her.

'...slave...'

The whispered thought left a bitter taste in her mouth, and she frowned as though it had been a physical thing. She was not so low that she would stoop to that. Being the master of someone else's every waking thought. Every breath. Every step they took.

Sure Ari helped slavers every now and again. But she always stealthily freed some of her captured slaves once she got paid. Of course, only if they deserved it. The real scum she left to rot in their shackles and explosive collars. Which consisted of the majority of the jobs she took. The innocent were only taken as a mistake on her part due to lack of... information.

Why Charon was so set on doing this didn't settle well with her.

It... mystified her completely.

At the beginnings of another Charon-induced frown, Ari started at a dark outline of a figure approaching through the storm.

A curse almost slipped through, her body tensing for flight, when a feminine voice called out.

"Please! Help me!"

Ari let the curse slip through anyway. This was just the type of distraction she had been hoping to avoid.

Still debating turning tail and running, she cursed again as the frail caucasian grabbed her arm, sobbing.

"Fuck lady, what do you want?" She bit out.

Her heart tore a little at the older woman's look of pure despair. But shit, this lady had to be ten kinds of stupid for just grabbing her like she did.

For all she knew, Ari could have been some fucked up raider that could just shoot her dead where she stood. People like her didn't last too long out in the wastes.

A lesson Ari had learned within the first few hours outside the suffocating, yet safe, vault.

And she had learned hard.

Trust no one.

"My boy... please! You must help my grandson!" Frazzled white-streaked hair accented the crazed look in her eyes.

The grip on her arm tightened, making the Lone Wanderer wince. Shrugging off the bony hands, Ari held the old lady a relatively safe distance away, about to tell her off.

But the woman read the look in her grey eyes and burst into loud sobs, sagging in Ari's hold. Following the older lady to the ground, Ari crouched over her, her hard exterior breaking a little more. Cold she may be, but hardly heartless.

"Fine, point the way, old maid." Ari grumbled, giving her an awkward pat on the shoulder.

"Thank you!" The old stranger clung once more to Ari, her frail frame shuddering with soul-wracking sobs of joy.

Ari nearly fell over at the sudden weight, her balance already precarious at the awkward crouched angle. Ari sighed, allowing the stranger a few moments before slowly, but forcefully, extracting herself from the painful grip.

The Vault kid gave the woman a pointed look, knowing she didn't have much time with the ghoul still tracking her.

Too engulfed in sobs, the woman could only lift a trembling hand towards the direction she had come from, her voice hiccuping as she whispered, "...Yao-Gui..."

Ari exhaled. Why couldn't it be something easy? Wild animals were always unpredictable. But she'd take the mutated bear over a single Deathclaw or two dozen ghouls any day.

Shouldering her A3-31's Plasma Rifle, Ari gave the sitting woman a brief squeeze on the shoulder before striding quickly in the direction laid out for her. It didn't take long before she heard the irritated snarls of the beast, masked as it was by the howling sand. Crouching, she readied her gun, creeping forward so low to the ground her knees scraped the tops of the stones.

The furry beast had its back to her, rearing up on its hind legs. A smaller figure squealed, running off to the side as the Yao-Gui swung its heavy paw. It clipped the young boy's back, sending him sprawling off balance. He knocked his head on the side of a boulder, falling limply to the ground immediately after. The beast rounded in closer for the kill, growling.

All the while, Ari had the Rifle raised to her sights, breathing deeply. Evenly.

It raised its clawed paw for a final blow.

The cross-hairs rested on its forehead.

It swung.

But she fired first.

-o-o-o-

Charon growled as he came across signs of the Lone Wanderer's passage.

He surged forth as he came across a hunched figure in the storm. Would she really make it that easy?

Even as he reached out, he knew it wasn't.

Not her.

The rags hung off a bony figure. Too frail. Too weak to be his employer

Anger flared in the ghoul, fueled by his disappointment. He grabbed the Smoothskin's shoulder harder than necessary, gripping tightly as he demanded, "Where is she?"

The old lady looked up at him in terror, only able to stutter, "Y-yao-guh-guh-Gui..."

Her frail finger pointed in the direction Ari had gone earlier.

"Shit." Charon cursed, dropping the old woman as he sprinted off.

Not that he was worried. It's just...

His employer was strong.

But her performance was altered when she was in a hurry. Otherwise he wouldn't have been able to track her so easily.

He wasn't worried.

But he hastened his step anyway.

-o-o-o-

She watched with mild satisfaction as the microfusion cell made short work of the organic, turning it's body an unhealthy bright flash of green before the Yao-Gui melted into a surprised puddle of goo.

Dusting off her knees, she strolled over to the unconscious boy. She kicked him on the side to wake him. The first didn't do it, so she tried again, though a little harder this time around.

At his groan, she grunted, "Get up."

A snarl erupted behind her.

The boy's green eyes widened.

Then all hell broke loose.

Red pain jolted through her as she was slammed against the rock, spinning to meet the ground with an agonizing scrape. The leather armor took the brunt of it, though she could feel the steady beat of new bruises matching the pumping of her blood.

More angry growls followed suit and the Vault Kid rolled out of instinct.

Mere milliseconds later a deadly paw gouged into the hard earth where she had been, the force of it tearing a chunk deep out of the ground. She fired blindly as she sprang up out of her roll, getting the satisfaction of a pained growl before she ducked and weaved through another barraged assault.

How many were there?

She didn't have the luxury to count.

But she tossed a grenade into the fray, pinpointing the boy somewhere behind her a fraction before she released it. She dodged back, weaving through lumbering Yao-Gui and getting past with light gouges on her person, before she yanked the boy up by the arm and dove over a boulder for cover.

The toss had been too close.

Ka-BOOM!

As the explosion ripped the air and shook the ground, Ari realized they had not stopped moving. A flaw in her hastily made plan.

They had dived over the boulder down a steep incline on the other side. They tumbled violently down the hill, the Lone Wanderer catching glimpses of their direction even as she lost her grip on the boy. His shrill scream pierced the air. That's when she realized.

The sky greeted them a few more yards ahead. They were headed for a cliff.

Just her luck.

She saw the boy tumbling farther ahead. In a move against all self-preservation instincts, she kicked off the ground once her feet made contact, springing closer to the cliff edge.

Grasping the ledge as her momentum carried her over the precipice, the sense of gravity shifted. She saw a blur of another body flying overhead. Without thinking, she reached out with her free hand.

She felt cloth and flesh.

Her fingers clenched.

Suddenly her breath was torn from her as her body slammed against the cliff face. She tensed. Moments later her shoulder fired in agony at the extra wrench of a second body.

The boy cried out as he too hit the rock wall, screaming again as he realized the only thing keeping him from plummeting to his doom was her hand on his jacket sleeve.

Ari took a moment to gather her wits, the storm battering them with more ferocity at this angle, threatening her death grip on the ledge above them. She knew there was still the Yao-Gui to deal with, but she'd cross that bridge if they survived this first.

Suddenly, the boy started to panic. He wrestled with the air, frantically trying to get a grip on anything.

"Shit, little boy. Calm down." Ari bit out, attempting to keep her grip on the ledge as well as the idiot dangling below her.

Of course, he must've been in his early teens, but formalities like that didn't matter in the Wastes. Either you were a kid, or you were grown. Only one of the two survived.

And the way this boy was acting-

"Fuck!" Ari cursed, the boy managing to grab a hold of her legs.

Of course, it would have been a great hand hold, except the boy was going through it all wrong.

Instead of just holding onto her, he started wriggling like a drowning man.

Ari cursed again as she grabbed at the ledge with both hands, almost losing her grip at his wild movements.

"Stop squirming! You're gonna kill us both!" Ari shouted angrily, a bit of fear mixed in there as well.

This situation was spiraling out of her control.

The boy was too far gone to comprehend he was dooming them both. More like a rabid animal than human. She half-expected to get bitten in her calf.

She grunted in pain at a massive tug around her ankles. Shit, the kid was wiry. But fuckin' strong in his struggles.

She felt her grip slipping.

The storm picked a perfect time to dissipate, leaving with a dying howl.

The veil of sand and dust lifted, providing a crystal clear view all around them.

She glanced downward, and her gut sank to the bottom of her toes at the sight. Just far enough to get strangled by the idiot kid she was trying to save.

The canyon bottom was at least a mile down.

There was no way anyone was walking away from that drop.

And if the fall didn't immediately kill them, the dots that resembled a pack of Deathclaws below would.

The boy was screaming, hysterical. All she could see in his eyes was panic. His mouth was frothing in fear.

He yanked again, his movements placing a large strain on her arms. Now Ari was no weakling. She could grapple with a ghoul. Sling a mini machine gun for a couple yards, pounding lead into anything that moved. Take a few well-aimed swings with a Super Sledge.

But this was too much. She didn't know how many agonizing minutes had passed. Gravity clawed at her, their combined weight testing her arms to the limit. He flailed once more.

It was too much.

Ari cried out, losing one hand from the ledge.

"Cut it out!" Ari screamed, well and truly scared now.

She couldn't call up the strength to raise that one arm back up, much less attempt to pull them both up.

But he just kept yelling himself, an endless shout that echoed in the stormless canyon.

Ari looked down, her fingers slowly losing their grip.

There was only one thing she could do.

Only one option left.

"I'm sorry..." She whispered.

Yanking her leg upwards, she kicked down at the panicked youth.

Wide eyes widened.

A silent 'no' framed his mouth as he tumbled down and down.

Ari couldn't get herself to close her eyes.

To look away.

She did this.

He fell the endless moments, becoming a splat on the ground a mile away.

She killed him.

The Deathclaws came running, milling around the freshly made carcass. Gorging on the easy meal ticket.

Ari felt sick.

As she felt her grip giving way, she wondered hopelessly what it had been for. He had died, for what? So she would have a few extra seconds before her own fatal plummet?

A growl above her.

A strong hand encircled her wrist, just as she lost her hold.

Ari snapped her gaze upwards, finding fierce blue eyes glowering down at her, even as he yanked her up.

Up to firm ground. To safety.

"Trying to get yourself killed, smoothskin?" He growled, voice gruff and unyielding.

Another time she might've socked him in the stomach. Done some surprise maneuver or something to get away.

But all she could see was the boy's face. What had she done?

The ghoul dragged her to her feet, her trembling legs wobbling on the solid ground.

She was safe. But what about the boy?

"What, Mole Rat got your tongue?" Charon gripped her other arm, shaking her to get her to look at him, "I track you down, through hours of that freak shit storm, and you can't even say nothin'? Not even a 'thank you' for the dear fuckin' ghoul that just saved your ass?"

Ari looked at him, unseeing. Her gaze drew back over the ledge.

Until Charon shook her again, growling, "Can't even bother to look at me, smoothskin?"

Ari looked at him, finally seeing him for the first time. Realizing he was there.

A little scratched and bruised here and there, but present, standing before her, all the same.

He had tracked her down. Again.

Charon opened his mouth to continue a rant.

But the Lone Wanderer whispered loudly first, her voice croaking from the earlier shouting, "Charon."

She lurched forward, burrowing hard into the enclosure of his burly chest and muscled arms. His instinctive reaction had been to tighten his grip, thinking she was trying to escape again. Only to gape in surprise at the supple bundle of satin skin and reinforced leather within his hold. Her slender arms were wrapped around his torso, her face pressed into his leather armored chest. Was she... hugging him?

Willingly?

He released her completely, in shock. Taking a step back. But she followed like a shadow, mirroring his step, her own arms gripping his waist harder.

Hesitantly, he lowered his arms back down, "Smoothskin...?"

His large hands rested awkwardly around her hips. Sure, she had almost died. He was angry. But never in a million years did he think it would drag such a vulnerable reaction from the tough Lone Wanderer he had gotten to know.

It had to be something else.

Charon frowned down at the tangled black mess of hair, thinking only this Smoothskin could make a disheveled-sorry-ass-excuse of a bun, look good. Letting that supple body rest against his for longer still, refusing to acknowledge the position felt... right... Charon waited.

"...I killed him." Ari's muffled voice rose against his chest.

Charon creased brow deepened. Who was she talking about?

Then that lightly tanned smoothskin face turned upwards, grey eyes looking at him beseechingly, "He was just a boy. A little kid, but he wouldn't quit-"

It all clicked at once. The multiple shouting. Her last screamed words. The blood trails on the ground.

"Stop right there, girly." Charon interrupted roughly, placing a finger to her lips, "First of all, you did what you had to. Secondly, see all this blood on the ground leading to where you hung? Obviously not yours. That boy was already dead, but neither of you smoothskins knew it yet."

Ari frowned, trying to speak past the finger, "But-"

"No buts." The large ghoul growled as he shook his head, pressing his finger more to silence her. He had seen this too many times.

The guilt and 'what ifs' were enough to strip a strong-willed soldier down to an insecure little shit just begging to be killed out here.

Like hell he would allow her to resort to such a pathetic, crumbled state.

But she swatted away the hand, more of her fire coming back. He had to struggle not to loom pleased by it.

"It's still my fault, Charon." She stated.

"Ain't no one's fault but the boy's own. His mother ain't too bright neither. Got herself gutted back there by the 'Gui before I could kill 'em all." Charon rumbled.

"Listen, Charon. That doesn't change a thing. I made us roll down the hill. *I* kicked him down to his death." Ari stepped forward at each sentence, before pivoting to walk away, "Nothing you say will change how I feel about this."

But a strong ghoul arm grabbed hers, forcefully stopping her in her tracks and spinning Ari to face him again.

Ari started.

Fuck. The ghoul was pissed. And for the life of her, Ari could not figure out why.

"No YOU listen, Smoothskin. What do you think woulda happened with the boy and the 'Gui before you got there? A pat on the back? Hell, that boy was dead before you even came into the picture. I seen this a million times. And that's a million times more than I care for." Charon released a stunned Lone Wanderer, reaching for a metal band cuffed around his wrist. Unlatching it with ease, he looked back down at her with a glint in his eye, "You wanna wallow in guilt and self-pity for something that was bound to happen in the first place? Fine. Have yourself a fuckin' grand time with that. My opinion? It's pointless, a fuckin' waste of time, and is more likely to get you killed faster than stumbling across a pack of starved Deathclaws. So go right ahead and feel sorry for yourself. Just don't expect any pity from me."

He grabbed her left wrist, latching the open metal band on her upper arm. Right between her bicep and shoulder. It wouldn't fit anywhere else.

Before she could even think to retaliate, Charon had let her go and had stepped back to observe his handiwork.

The wristband -which was now an armband- gleaned dully in the afternoon sun.

"The fuck?" Ari exclaimed, tugging at the cold piece of metal. But it didn't budge. It wouldn't slide an inch either way, and definitely wouldn't unlatch. Despite evidence from earlier, it looked entirely seamless. Ari shot an accusing glare at the smug bodyguard before her, demanding, "What is this, Charon? What did you just do?"

"Brought it on yourself, Smoothskin. You make it difficult to do my job, runnin' all the time. That little beauty right there will help me sleep at night." Charon grinned.

Ari was no idiot. The ghoul had put a goddamn tracking device on her!

The fuckin' nerve...

"You know, I'm getting real tired of this contract bull." Ari seethed, previous gloom cast off entirely, "What's to stop me from just firing you?"

A darker glint tinted those piercing blue eyes, "You wanna know what I do out of contract, Smoothskin?" He took a step forward, his presence bigger. His features shadowed as he rumbled, "You really wanna find out? I don't think you'll like it."

Ari growled, "Is that a threat, ghoul?" Her temper flared as he eyed her up and down. Sure he was bigger. Stronger. But she would not be underestimated. She didn't back down as she continued warningly, "I don't take kindly to threats."

"A mere statement of fact, girly..." He trailed off smartly, eyeing her once more before standing down, turning to stride away.

Her anger boiling beneath her skin, Ari glanced down at the metal band, then at the retreating back of the ghoul.

No one treated her this way. She wouldn't stand for it.

She liked control. Something that kept slipping away around the damn ghoul. It scared her, this strange feeling. It gave off a faint tint of weakness.

She didn't like it.

Her eyes narrowed.

Her voice was whispered, "I hate you..."

She didn't think he'd hear.

Which only surprised Ari when a reply did come.

Charon never even turned around. He merely paused, glancing down and off to the side, grumbling, "Good. I prefer it that way..."

He kept walking, her confused silence echoing his boot steps. Just as he was cresting a small ridge, she could've sworn she heard him muttering under his breath, "...Better than hating yourself, Smoothskin." 


End file.
